I have to admit I've been secretly dreading Christmas for weeks, especially Christmas Eve which is when my most vivid Christmas memories take place. Being of Ukrainian/Lithuanian heritage, the big dinner and celebration was always on Christmas Eve. My dad of course figured prominently in these Christmas Eve dinners - always ready with the right words at the start of the meal from his usual spot at the head of the table, a table that gets longer and longer every year due to the ever-growing list of grandchildren, in-laws, etc. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he would not be there this year, that he wouldn't be proclaiming "Dig in!" after saying a few words about our many blessings, his big hands gesturing in his own unique way. Who would circle the table repeatedly to refill our shot glasses with ice cold vodka?
I took on the task of wrapping all of my mom's Christmas gifts to everyone and shut myself in the basement for about three hours that afternoon. I turned on her ipod to pass the time and inevitably one of my Dad's piano recordings began to play - of course this resulted in my own little cry fest as I tied fancy bows and curled gift ribbons around the presents. I was literally crying in my beer since I'd decided I needed a little libation to help get through the tedious task of wrapping - Stella Artois and I had our own private meltdown and I wondered how the rest of the evening would go if this is how little it took for me to break down.
I needn't have worried. We had a great time on Christmas Eve. We went to Mass at the local Catholic Church and vowed to come up with a different plan next year after cringing during Christmas carols which were shrilly belted out by an off-key soprano over the loudspeakers into the foyer where we were crammed with hundreds of screaming babies and whining toddlers. My Mom's cousin Stefko and his (girlfriend? fiance? common-law wife? still not sure about this) Asta showed up at the house right at 5:30 p.m. as instructed. My husband filled in as bartender (usually my dad's job) and quickly handed them martinis as they settled into the recliners in the living room. We all rushed around setting the table, preparing the dishes, pouring drinks while dodging the toddlers and babies that were running around underfoot. When the time came to say the blessing - my mom stood at the head of the table and led us in the Our Father. Before anyone had time to dissolve into tears I mentioned that if my Tato were there, he'd be saying something lighthearted about our many blessings, including the two new babies who were not here to celebrate with us the last time we had Christmas at their house (2009), and of course his favorite line "Dig In!"
It was a festive and crazy night. We started off with the usual passing of the bread and honey and kissing everyone on the cheek. I made sure to refill everyone's vodka glasses between courses and we had several hearty toasts - to my dad, to the other family members who were no longer with us, and my husband's favorite - to all the ladies in the room. We devoured the borscht, the vushka, the varenyky (pyrohy), the many fish dishes. We took all the kids outside to sprinkle reindeer food. At one point we started playing some old cassette tapes we'd found that my Tato had made back in the 70's when he would record favorite songs off the radio - disco, old-time country - who else would listen to Donna Summer and Waylon Jennings on Christmas Eve?
As for the piano that my Tato always played for us during Christmas Eves past, it was put to good use by myself and my kids as we played all our favorite Christmas songs, including Tato's favorite, Silent Night. Instead of feeling his absence, I think we all felt his presence more than ever that night.
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